Road Trippin'
by CaptScarlett
Summary: Rhett and Scarlett take a drive in their shiny new automobile. Set in 1896. Ficathon story written for Mad Steph.


**I'm not an old car expert, but the titbits of info are true. See A/N at the end. I admit this is fluffy, I just hope there's not 'too much fluff' ;).**

**Set in 1896. **

* * *

"Scarlett, for heaven's sake, I'm not getting any younger!"

"Coming," she called, finally emerging from the house, and stopping only briefly to pull the front door shut behind her. Her face bore a look of barely contained excitement as she came running up to where her husband stood in the driveway. "Sorry."

"Your chariot awaits, milady," Rhett bowed then held out his hand to help her up into the vehicle. "You're sure you have everything you need? I'm not turning back once we're on the road."

"Quite sure. Hop in and let's go!" She wriggled happily and patted the seat in invitation for him to join her.

He cast his eyes around the open cabin, performing a final cursory check. A picnic basket lay at Scarlett's feet containing food for the journey, her purse rested in her lap. The rest of the luggage, far more than was necessary for their short stay at Tara, was tethered to the rear of the car.

"I can hardly wait, Rhett. Going on a trip like this for the first time, it's just so ... exhilarating!"

"My dear, I would have to concur." He grinned as he pulled on his gloves, straightened his cap and put his driving goggles in place.

Scarlett sniggered at the sight, not even attempting to hide her amusement.

"Mock me if you will," he stated, unperturbed, "but if I'm going to spend $1500 on an automobile I want to be able to look the part driving it."

"I thought motoring attire was supposed to make you look fashionable."

"What are you implying, madam?"

"Oh nothing. Perhaps you're just a little too old to pull it off properly, Rhett," she teased.

"Says the woman who's dressed like a beekeeper," he shot back, giving the crank handle a few sharp turns before the engine sprang to life.

"Don't be hateful!" Scarlett cried as he climbed up next to her. "The wind will ruin my hair if I don't wear this contraption! Or I could get an insect in my eye." She fiddled with her hat self-consciously and glared at him . "Oh, let's just go before I think twice about spending hours and hours alone with you."

Rhett chuckled as he pulled out of the driveway onto Peachtree Street and headed south east.

"It's a pity the old guard are all dead and gone," mused Scarlett as they puttered along. "We could have driven past their houses on the way out of town and made everybody jealous."

"Darling, I don't think they'd have recognised you!"

---------

The day was warm, a pleasant autumn morning that brought forth the scent of nature as they drove out of town into the rolling Georgia farmland. The roads were quiet and they made good progress, the purr of the engine agreeable company when the conversation lulled. The further away from Atlanta they went however, the more rutted and uncultivated country lanes became.

"Can't you find somewhere less bumpy to drive, Rhett?" groused Scarlett, holding her hat firmly on her head as she was jounced about.

"This is the way Scarlett, unless you'd prefer to take the scenic route and get there tomorrow." Off the look she gave him he knew to continue on as planned.

"If I recall correctly, the brochure you brought home said this vehicle has a steady action and is easy and comfortable to ride in."

"It also extolled the virtues of its excellent springs. They lied," he laughed. "I'll reduce my speed a little. We're not in any hurry to get there."

"I'll be fine. Keep going. I wouldn't want to spoil Suellen's dinner plans."

Scarlett smiled slightly as she felt the car slow deliberately.

"I'm sure your physician would tell you this is good for the liver," Rhett offered.

"There's nothing the matter with my liver thank you very much!"

"If you say so," he said mildly.

"I do! Stop insinuating nasty things Rhett Butler. I only take a whiskey for medicinal purposes. My doctor recommends it." Or he would if he knew, she thought to herself.

"Does he really?" Rhett quirked an eyebrow at her. "I wasn't aware there was anything wrong with your health."

"Well there isn't, but if I don't have a drink every evening then maybe there will be!" she huffed. "Can we change the subject please."

"If you like. Very fine weather we're having for this time of year."

Scarlett folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead.

"Do you know who built this marvellous feat of automotive engineering, my pet?" When she made no reply he continued. "The Duryea Motor Wagon Company."

She looked at him blankly. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Not in the slightest. I just thought it might amuse you to know that it was founded by a pair brothers," he paused for effect, "called Charles and Frank."

"Fascinating."

"I thought so too," Rhett laughed.

"It's no wonder I'm beginning to hate this machine," she muttered.

"I'm sure the roads will improve in due course. In the mean time, while I know it's a stretch of your abilities, my dear, just try exercising a little patience."

Scarlett took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Why don't you sing something for me, like your father used to do," Rhett suggested. " 'Peg in a low-backed car' seems appropriate in the circumstances."

"How am I supposed to hold a tune when I'm being bounced around like this?" she asked, grabbing onto the edge of the seat as she was jostled sideways.

"Or, perhaps 'When this cruel war is over' would be a better choice," he murmured to himself as he slowed and directed the car onto a narrow country lane.

Scarlett smiled in spite of herself. "I'm being a pain, aren't I."

"My darling, I haven't seen you this irritable since you started going through the Change."

"For heaven's sake, Rhett, you shouldn't talk about such things!" she reproached, slight colour flushing her cheeks.

"By now you should be used to the fact that I do." He grinned at her and the corners of her mouth twitched in response.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to be more pleasant."

"Thank you," he said as she shifted closer and looped her arm through his. "Just think of how envious Suellen will be of your fancy new automobile and its dashing chauffeur." He tipped his cap and gave her a wink. "Now, if you don't feel like singing, how about we play a game to pass the time instead?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know." He thought for a moment. "Why don't you pick an object you can see, tell me which letter it starts with and I have to guess what it is you're thinking of."

"Well that's just silly!"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Yes, go a little faster so we'll get to Tara before midnight and won't have to play foolish word games. She can do 20 miles an hour, Rhett. Stretch her legs a little!"

"What about the ill effects on your internal organs?"

"All right, fine," Scarlett said deflated, "we'll play your game. I spy," she began slowly after a little consideration, "with my little eye-"

Rhett snorted. " 'I spy with my little eye'?"

"I'm glad I can still make laugh after all these years," she bristled. "What's wrong with that? It rhymes. Children the world over will be annoying their parents with this game in no time at all."

"If you say so, my dear."

"I do say so, now hush up and listen. I spy with my little eye something beginning with… S."

"Sky?"

"No."

"Scenery?" She shook her head.

"Scarlett?" She rolled her eyes and made a face.

"Spokes? Steering mechanism? Sandwiches? We were supposed to stop for our picnic, Scarlett, not mess crumbs all over the upholstery."

"Sorry," she mumbled through a mouthful as he pulled off the side of the road and came to a halt beside the gate of a field.

"Well?" Rhett asked, as he climbed down from the car and walked around to help her out. "What was the answer?"

"Sky."

"I said that!"

"I know, but it would have made for a very short game if you'd got it on the first guess, so I decided to go with something else." She shrugged. "I just haven't made up my mind what yet."

Rhett shook his head and laughed. "Come on, let's eat."

---------

In under an hour later they were back on the road.

"Are we there yet?" Scarlett whined, in her best imitation of one of their grandchildren.

"If you don't be quiet young lady I'm going to stop this car and you can walk!" he rebuked.

She stifled a giggle. "I'll be good, I promise."

She snuggled a little closer, resting her head comfortably against his shoulder.

---------

"Are you sure this is the right way, Rhett?" she queried a while later.

"Yes, positive."

"I don't think it is." Scarlett sat up and looked at the unfamiliar countryside. "The more I think about it, the more certain I am you should have taken that left turn a couple of miles back. Perhaps we should stop at the next plantation and ask directions."

"We're not stopping Scarlett. I assure you know where I'm going. We've only been coming here for the last twenty five years."

"On the train, Rhett," she pointed out. "I grew up in these parts if you'll recall, and this doesn't look right to me. You're taking us to the back of beyond. I think you should turn around."

"Nonsense, I know what I'm doing."

"I'm only trying to be helpful, Rhett," she offered, noting the tension in his jaw. "But just so you know, you're the one who'll be walking in the dark to get help when we run out of fuel."

"This automobile does forty miles to a gallon of gasoline, Scarlett. We're not going to run out. What's happened to your sense of adventure?"

"I must have forgotten to pack it," she muttered, bracing herself once more as the car bounced over the rough road. "Pity this doesn't come with a telephone installed. We could have let Suellen know that we're going to be late."

"We are not going to be late!" Rhett insisted. "And a telephone in an automobile? Why I never heard of such a ridiculous notion."

"That's because you lack imagination," she frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's sitting at home with your sense of adventure."

---------

They sat in silence for several more minutes, before Rhett slowed to car and brought it to a standstill.

He took a deep breath and, staring straight ahead, admitted "I think we're lost."

"You don't say!"

"Oh don't be childish, Scarlett," he snapped, "I'm not in the mood for it!"

"You're the one who wouldn't take direction!" she pointed out defensively.

Rhett sighed, pushing his goggles up to rest on his forehead, then turned and studied her for a moment.

"You're right."

"I beg your pardon?" She looked surprised as he took her hand in his.

"I said that you were right. You're the native, I should have listened to you instead of thinking I knew best. We'll turn around and go back to the turning you suggested."

He squeezed her hand in a tacit gesture of apology before releasing it, then maneuvered the vehicle to face the opposite direction and set off once more.

"Thank you," said Scarlett quietly.

"For what?"

"Admitting you were wrong."

"I did no such thing, I only admitted that you were right."

"Ooh, you are impossible Rhett Butler!"

"But you love me anyway." The twinkle had returned to his eyes.

"I do," she smiled, leaning across to kiss his cheek, "but I'm still taking the train home."

**FIN.**

****

**A/N. The game _I Spy_ originated in the early 20th century.**

**13 Duryea Motor Wagons were built and sold in America in 1896 at a cost of $1500 each. (And yes, the brothers really were called Charles and Frank, lol.) **

* * *

Written for Mad Steph:

3 things I want in my fic:

* travelling

* Rhett/Scarlett centred

* a happy ending

3 things I don't want:

* multiple birth

* too much fluff

* time jumping

Timeline: I'm not fussed, anything except modern GwtW.


End file.
